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Owen grimaced and shook his head. His ruse to make the magical puritans think he wouldn’t get in the way of their plans had backfired. But that meant this guy must have been there in the park. I didn’t recognize him, but it had been dark and there had been so many people and things there. There was still something familiar about him, though. I knew I’d seen him somewhere recently.
Abruptly, his bland, neutral face twisted into a mask of sheer hatred, his eyes narrowing, and furrows appearing in his forehead as his lips thinned to a harsh slit. “What do you want with the Eye and its power?” He spat the words at Owen.
“I want to keep it out of the wrong hands,” Owen said with his characteristic crisis calm.
“Not to mention foiling an evil plot to stir up the magical world,” I said, moving to sit beside Owen in a show of solidarity. Sitting may not have been a position of strength, but it was stronger than falling, which was what might have happened if either of us had tried to get up and run. “You aren’t another one of those magical puritans, are you?”
“I have nothing to do with those fanatics,” the man said with a shake of his head.
“Then who are you?” Owen asked. “What do you want with me?”
“My name is Raphael Maldwyn.” He paused for a moment, like he was waiting for Owen to react. When Owen showed no sign of recognition, Raphael went purple with rage. “You don’t know who I am? My name means nothing to you?”
Owen shook his head. “I’m sorry, nothing is coming to mind. It’s been a really rough day. How about a hint?”
His name didn’t mean anything to me, either, but I finally realized where I’d seen him. “Hey, you were in the coffee shop! The one sitting by us who had a coughing fit. You must be the person Sam thought was tailing us. You were using illusions and Sam noticed the magic.” I wondered if I’d seen him anywhere else, but as busy as we’d been, chasing and being chased, I doubted I would have noticed any individual who hadn’t physically attacked us. Was he the man I’d seen outside 21? I hadn’t had a good look at his face, but his coat was familiar. Then again, it was just a bland, generic trench coat.
“Following you has been a challenge,” he admitted. “You’ve been on the move all day, surrounded by your guards, and then there were the other people following you.”
“Yeah, if you wanted to follow us today, you’d have to take a number and get in line,” I said.
“Since you have the Eye, I can prove that you’re up to your parents’ tricks, and then you will be dealt with,” Raphael said.
“I never even knew my parents,” Owen said, his voice heavy with weariness. “I think my father died without knowing I’d been born, and my mother gave me away as soon as I was born. They didn’t get a chance to influence me.”
“And yet you have a weapon pointed at me.”
Owen’s gun wavered. He was in a no-win situation. He couldn’t exactly protest his innocence and pure motives while holding someone at gunpoint, but without the gun, he was vulnerable to the madman with a vendetta.
Taking advantage of Owen’s moment of hesitation, Raphael moved his hands in the form of a spell as he muttered words. I felt the magic building around us. He kept at it until beads of sweat formed on his brow. When several minutes went by with no result, he finally gave up and stared at Owen. “How do you resist me?” he asked.
“No magic. Not even enough to allow you to use magic on me. The Eye doesn’t do me any good. Now do you believe that I don’t want it for myself?” Owen very deliberately put his gun down and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
“This is a trick!” Raphael shouted. Before either Owen or I had a chance to react, he lunged forward, grabbed Owen, and jerked him to his feet, shaking him violently. He was half a head taller than Owen and not nearly as weary or as badly hurt, plus he was crazy, so he was at a distinct advantage. I was afraid he’d kill Owen with his bare hands.
That wasn’t something I could just sit by and watch happen. Forcing myself to my feet, I took the gun from my purse and aimed it at Raphael’s head. “Let him go!” I commanded. The order didn’t make its way through the fog of crazy. I thought about firing a warning shot, but I wasn’t sure I could do that without causing a ricochet or drawing a security guard who’d ask questions we couldn’t answer. Instead, I stepped forward and ground the barrel of the gun into the back of Raphael’s neck. “I said, let him go.”
That got his attention. Unfortunately, it didn’t get his obedience. He did take one hand off Owen, but only to gesture casually. The gun jerked in my hands, like it was trying to escape my grasp. I held on as tightly as I could, my knuckles growing white with the strain, but it was no use. The gun slipped out of my fingers and flew into Raphael’s hand.
“Damn!” I muttered. I was so used to magic not working on me that it hadn’t occurred to me that magic could work on objects I held. That perhaps explained why weapons weren’t used too often in magical fights.
Raphael shoved Owen roughly against the nearest pillar and pointed my gun at him with one hand while frisking him with the other. “Where is the Eye? What have you done with it?” he demanded.
“He doesn’t have it. He never has,” I said. “If anyone’s power hungry and holding onto this dreadful eyesore, it’s me, not Owen. And in case you’re worrying, I have no plans to give it to him.”
“Yes, she has been very stubborn about it.” All three of us turned to see who’d spoken. The puritans had caught up with us. They must have tracked the Eye like magical bloodhounds. The mad professor led the group. “It took us some time to find you,” he said. “I see you’ve taken the Eye back from that foolish woman.”
He came toward us, ignoring Raphael, and although he claimed that the Eye didn’t affect him, I thought his eyes had a suspicious glint in them when he got close to us. “Yes, I believe the girl has it once more. Give it to me, young lady, and things will go much better for you.”
“Keep away from her!” Raphael said in a commanding tone, much to my surprise. He released Owen and stepped in between me and the puritans. Owen moved around to my side, and we exchanged a puzzled look. “You have no right to the Eye,” Raphael continued.
“Neither do you,” the lead puritan said.
“I’m not trying to take it.”
“Then may I ask what your interest in the Eye is?”
“I am not interested in the Eye. My interest is in bringing Owen Palmer to justice.”
